I'll Never Die
by Yumesuta
Summary: SephTif. One day in Tifa’s rebuilt Seventh Heaven, she gets a mysterious visitor. She offers him a place to stay. It turns out that this man is Sephiroth! What happens when he takes over the bar and holds Tifa captive?
1. The Guest

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, any of the related characters, any of the related places, or any of the related ideas.

Summary: SephTif, set two years after AC. One day in Tifa's rebuilt Seventh Heaven, she gets a mysterious visitor. She offers him a place to stay. It turns out that this man is Sephiroth! What happens when he takes over the bar and holds Tifa captive?

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Chapter 1: The Guest

Business was slow that day. That was normal for Tifa, though, as it was a Tuesday night. Since Tuesday is a weekday, many people have to go to work. She didn't mind slow days because it gave her more time to prepare for anyone else that may come in for a drink.

She'd done a lot of renovation to her home since Sector 7 was rebuilt. The main room of the bar was bigger, the cable actually worked, she'd gotten rid of the pinball machine, and she'd put in a living room that was off-limits to patrons (it was, after all, her personal living space). She now had two bedrooms—one was her own, and the other was the guest bedroom. There was only one bathroom, though, and she didn't let customers use it most of the time.

Tifa liked how her home had developed pretty well, but her customers were still her favorite part of her bar…Not because they gave her gil, though. It was because they were people, and Tifa Lockheart just liked people. The only reason she liked slow days better than busy days was because it gave her more time to think.

Wiping off the mahogany countertop with a wet gray rag for the twelfth time that evening, she sighed and glanced at the clock hanging next to her front door. It was nine o'clock…Closing time was at nine-thirty, but as no one was here at the moment except for her, she moved to grab a dry rag to dry off her countertop and sighed and the silence in the room.

All she could hear was the sound of the clock's second hand and her own movements. Two years ago, Denzel and Marlene would be in the living room by now, watching cartoons. Ten months ago, Barret decided that he wanted to live with his daughter. Since Marlene didn't want to leave Denzel behind, Barret ended up taking the both of them.

Children could really be noisy.

Tifa used to scold the children whenever they got too loud, but now nothing interesting had happened for the longest time and she would gladly welcome their noisy lifestyle with open arms.

"It's 9:10," she muttered to herself after wiping the mahogany countertop with a clean, dry white rag. "No one's here so I suppose I could close the bar now…"

As soon as she hung the dry rag back on its rack in the kitchen, she heard the door open and went to the counter almost by instinct.

The visitor wore a black cloak that looked like it was made out of leather. A hood covered his face (at least, she thought it was a he) so Tifa couldn't see the figure's eyes. A large, black leather sheath hung on his back, most likely carrying some sort of sword. He was very tall, maybe six feet, and appeared to be walking with a slight limp as he approached the counter, his slow footsteps echoing emptily on the dark wooden floor. Occasionally a floorboard squeaked below his heavy black boots.

"Hi, welcome to Tifa's Seventh Heaven, how can I help you?" Tifa asked, moving behind the cash register.

"…All I want is a drink, if you are not closing," the figure said with a deep voice that made Tifa sure that her customer was a man.

"No, I'm not closed yet. I close at 9:30 but if you're not finished by then you can stay here for a while. So what can I get for you?" the burgundy-eyed woman asked politely.

"Anything, so long as it's liquid and non-toxic."

"You're that thirsty, huh? I'll make you a special drink, then. It's my specialty, or at least it's going to be. I haven't served it to anyone but myself yet, though, so I don't exactly have a name for it," Tifa said, moving to the kitchen.

"Let's see…" She retrieved the ingredients, and mixed them together very quickly. Anyone could guess she'd been doing this for a long time. Once done fixing the drink, she poured it into a serving glass and approached the counter.

"Here you go," Tifa said, smiling as she placed it in front of the man.

"Thank you," he muttered, swallowing half the glass in one gulp from thirst.

"…Hey, are you going to take your hood down?" Tifa asked, leaning her elbows on the countertop.

The visitor finished the rest of his beverage, wiped his mouth with one gloved hand and shook his head. "…I do not think that would be a good idea."

Noticing that he finished, Tifa asked eagerly, "So what did you think of that?"

The man nodded. "It was very good," he said quietly.

Tifa couldn't help but smile, and had the feeling that her cheeks were probably a little red as well. "Are you just saying that, or do you mean it?"

"I mean it. It was very good. You will probably make a lot of gil off of it, as soon as you think of a name. Oh, speaking of gil…" He reached into his pocket. A light, metallic clinking sound signaled that his fingertips reached the metal coins known as gil. "…How much do I owe you for the drink?"

Tifa glanced at the clock. It was almost 9:45. "Nothing, it's on the house," she said with an almost secretive smile. "All of my test drinkers get their beverage for free."

"That is very kind but I cannot accept that. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing! I promise, you owe me nothing."

"…If you insist." He withdrew his gloved hand from the depths of his pocket and rested it on the clean countertop.

"Hey," Tifa said almost shyly, glancing at him as she took the empty glass to go wash it. "I noticed that when you came in you were walking with a slight limp…"

"Ah, yes. I have been traveling for a while and I injured my leg yesterday on my way to Midgar. I managed to bandage it for the most part, but it still hurts a bit to walk on," the man explained, shifting in his seat slightly to stand up.

"Oh…Hey, where are you going to stay tonight?" Tifa asked.

"…I am sure that I will find somewhere…" the man muttered uncertainly, shifting again on the stool he was seated in.

"You can stay here for a while if you want to," Tifa offered almost eagerly. "For free, too!"

"Your offer is very kind, Tifa, but I am afraid that it would not be a very good idea for me to reside here, no matter how short my stay would be…" the man mumbled awkwardly.

"Please? I can't just let an injured man go out into the world and gain more injuries," the dark-haired woman reasoned with him. "All I ask for payment is that you let me see your face…"

"…I do not believe that it would be a good idea for you to see my face."

"Then, can you at least tell me your name?"

"…No. That would not be a good idea, either…" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stood up. "I should go now…"

"Oh come on! At least let me see your face if you don't want to stay here," Tifa said, almost begging. She liked to know whom she was serving.

The man hesitated, turned so that he was facing the woman fully, and hesitantly reached his gloved hand up to his black hood and grabbed the back of it, but paused before he pulled it down. After a moment, he yanked the hood off of his head.

Tifa froze as silver hair fell out of the hood and blue-green, lightly glowing eyes stared at her.

"…Get out of my bar, Sephiroth," she said quietly, her body tensing automatically with fear.

Sephiroth just stared at her and ripped the hood neatly off of his cloak. "…Odd. Just a second ago you were practically begging me to stay the night…"

"That was one second ago," Tifa breathed, not realizing when she took a step backwards, pressing herself against the off-white wall behind her. _I should have recognized the Masamune in its sheath. What other sword is that long, anyway? _she thought.

"Miss Lockheart, does one second really change anything at all?" Sephiroth challenged, walking behind the counter to meet her, his heavy footsteps echoing almost ominously.

"It does when you know who it is you're talking to," she spat, wishing she had her Premium Heart gloves with her. Unfortunately, they were locked in her closet, piled underneath some other junk she didn't really need…

He smirked. "I assume you want me to get out now?"

"You'd assume right! Get out, I don't serve murderers here!"

Calmly, he unsheathed the Masamune and pressed the tip of it against her throat. "…What if I changed my mind? I cannot very well leave, now that someone knows that I am alive, Miss Lockheart."

She couldn't answer. She was afraid that if she said anything, her head would be severed from her neck in less than a second.

"I _could_ merely kill you to make absolutely sure no one will know of my existence…" His smirk faded as his eyes bore into hers, trying to instill even more fear in the woman. "But then, who would I have to provide for me?"

"P-provide for yourself," she squeaked, her voice failing on her.

Sephiroth raised his eyebrows slightly, gently pressing the edge of his blade against the collar of the black blouse Tifa was wearing. "The Masamune can cut through the fabric you're wearing without me even trying. Your flesh would be no harder," he threatened softly. It was frightening, how calm his voice was.

"What do you want from me?" Tifa asked, gulping, reluctant to give in…but she didn't want to die.

"First, I want you to tell me one thing," he breathed. "…Where is Strife?"

"I haven't seen Cloud in a year. The last I heard, he was going to go find a way to revive Aeris…" Tifa mumbled, thankful for once that she didn't know where Cloud was. She didn't want her best friend to die.

"Disappointing. Where are your other little teammates?"

"N-none of them are in Midgar if that's where you're after," she said, then narrowed her eyes. "I'll never tell you where they are, though," she hissed protectively.

"Fair enough," Sephiroth said, an amused expression dancing in his blue-green eyes. "What I want you to do is close the bar for as long as I am here. Give me your cell phone. I am going to cut the phone line so you can't be reached. I am going to lock the door. You are not to leave unless I tell you otherwise. You will do as I say, or you will die."

Tifa reached into her pocket to grab her cell phone reluctantly. "…Why?" she said, fighting back tears as she handed her silver-colored flip phone to the man in front of her.

"I do not want anyone to know that I am alive, not until I am recovered from my current weak state," he said, snatching the cell phone from Tifa. Once he had a grasp on it, he broke the phone in two along the hinges. "I do not want you calling anyone for help. I know you enjoy serving the public, Miss Lockheart…" She hated the way Sephiroth said her name so mockingly. "…However, until I am ready to leave you will serve only me."

Tifa closed her eyes and nodded hesitantly, feeling sick. She had no choice.

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Yumesuta: That's the first chapter. Unfortunately the following chapters may not be so long. If I get enough reviews on this chapter I'll continue it, but if I don't get enough I won't continue the fic. I hope you all liked it, and please review! 


	2. Ropes

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

Note: I'm glad people are enjoying this fanfiction. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up the good work in this story. Usually I get lazy and don't put in so many details but this time I'll try a little harder to be more detailed.

Second Note: If you add this story to your favorites list I'd really appreciate it if you actually _review_ the story. Otherwise I won't know what you think about the story.

Third Note: If the layout of Tifa's bar is a little off in this chapter, I'm sorry. I haven't seen Advent Children, so the only Seventh Heaven layout I know is the one you see in the game. Correct me if something about the layout is wrong and bothers you.

Fourth Note: _If text is in italics like this, it's a character's train of thought._

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Chapter 2: Ropes

Tifa watched helplessly as Sephiroth cut off all of the woman's methods of communicating with other people, her wine red eyes displaying her despair though the rest of her face remained surprisingly calm.

The ex-general started with the telephone in the living room. He took the cord that attached the phone to the wall out of its outlet, grabbed the cord and slammed it into the ground violently, like it was a mace. The phone shattered, making a crashing sound as it hit the ground. The cord snapped off of the phone's body.

Sephiroth then stood straight, his eyes boring into the frightened young woman.

"…I'll require that to be cleaned up later," he breathed, exiting the living room to stand in front of her in the main room of the bar. "And I know that the task will not be a problem with you. In fact, why don't you go ahead and get started?"

_No. I'll never do anything for you, Sephiroth. I hate you!_ This is what Tifa **wanted** to say. However, fear caused her to squeak a feeble "yes" at his demand and she hastily headed towards the hall closet to find something she could use to clean up the mess.

Sephiroth's cold gaze swept around the room and he approached the counter, the slight limp that earlier afflicting his leg still annoyingly lingering. Seeing no other telephones, he made his way over to the front door, hastily switched the "open" sign to "closed" and locked the door with the chain lock. He assumed that Tifa was trusting enough with her friends that she gave at least one of them a key to enter her bar…He didn't want them to get in.

Judging by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, Sephiroth guessed that Tifa had returned from the closet. He could see her enter the living room with some stuff under one arm from the corner of his eye.

Tifa knelt beside the mess, setting a medium-sized cardboard box next to her. She heard muffled, slightly unsteady footsteps behind her, drawing close. She tried her best to ignore them—she didn't want to talk to Sephiroth. She opened the cardboard box and pulled out a small broom and a dustpan to clean up her now shattered phone.

_I liked that phone, too, _she thought bitterly, moving to sweep up the broken remnants of the phone. _But I suppose it's better that the phone goes, rather than me…Either way, I don't want to be in this situation! Sephiroth's going to kill me eventually. I just know it…_

Tifa looked in the box before dumping the first few phone chunks inside of it. "Huh?" she mumbled to herself, setting down the broom to pull out a coil of rope from the box. Not remembering where she got the rope, she set it aside.

"…Why do you have a coil of rope, Lockheart?" a cold, low voice asked from right behind Tifa, making her jump.

"I-I don't know. It might come in handy I guess…"

"Have you ever actually used it?" Sephiroth asked. He was close. Tifa could feel the toe of his boot touching the bottom of her foot.

"Not that I can remember," the dark-haired woman replied honestly.

"…Give me the rope."

"Why?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Don't question me. Just give me the rope, or I will get it myself and tie it around your neck. I do not think you would find hanging from the ceiling by your neck a very enjoyable experience, Miss Lockheart. Personally, though, I would not mind giving you that experience…" the ex-general breathed icily.

Tifa hesitated a moment, then bit her lip and grabbed the coil. _Wait. What if he hangs me when I give him the rope? _The thought panicked her, but the feel of the tip of the Masamune pressing against the back of her neck brought Tifa back to her senses. She handed him the coil of rope.

"That's a good girl," Sephiroth said mockingly, bending over to take the rope from her. When he did that, Tifa felt the ends of his long hair lightly brush against the top of her head. She held her breath, gritting her teeth until the man was standing fully straight again.

Sephiroth moved towards the doorway, then stood there. "…When you are done cleaning up the mess your phone made, you will show me where I will be sleeping…and it _will_ be in a bedroom."

Tifa made no reply as she finished cleaning, shoving the box next to the couch after dropping her cleaning tools in after the shards of plastic and phone parts. "Follow me," she muttered gloomily.

The silver-haired man moved out of the doorway and followed Tifa up the stairs, their footsteps echoing out of unison as they ascended. The hallway in the second floor was dimly lit. In the middle of the hall, Tifa pushed open a dark wooden door, entered the room and flipped on the light switch.

"This is the guest bedroom," she announced sourly. "You'll be sleeping in here. The bathroom is at the end of the hall…"

Sephiroth nodded. "Now I wish to see your bedroom."

"_Why?" _Tifa demanded. Her bedroom was her own personal space—there was no way she wanted to let this man see her bedroom!

"I would like to know where my servant resides at night. I would like to know exactly where you are at all times, as to be absolutely sure you will not try to escape," Sephiroth explained impatiently, giving the woman a long, cold stare.

"…It's the door right across from this room," Tifa mumbled, yawning slightly as she exited Sephiroth's new room to enter her own room. _I wonder how late it's getting?_ she thought.

Sephiroth nodded, standing in the doorway of Tifa's room. After a moment he set the coil of rope on her bedside table, which was, without the rope, empty except for a small lamp. "It is getting rather late, Lockheart. You should get some rest. Stay in your room; I will be right back."

The man shut the door behind him when he left, leaving Tifa all alone in the one place she thought she'd always feel safe. As much as she hated being afraid of anything, she was—but who could blame her? Her life was in the hands of the person who had burned down her hometown, killed her father, manipulated her childhood friend, killed one of her best friends, threatened to destroy the Planet…And then came back to try all over again.

Tifa sighed and climbed onto her bed, leaning her head back against the headboard as she pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knees. The jeans she had been wearing that day were slightly worn out and felt a bit rough to the skin on her chin but she didn't care. She'd rather have an uncomfortable chin rest than be in immense pain.

Several minutes later, the woman heard footsteps getting steadily louder until her door creaked open. She wasn't _that_ afraid…until she saw that Sephiroth had brought one of the sharpest knives from her kitchen with him.

He read Tifa's terrified expression with an amused look on his face. "…I would not use a knife to kill you, Lockheart. It's to cut the rope."

"…Okay…" Tifa breathed shakily, her wine-red eyes still wide.

Sephiroth grabbed the rope from Tifa's bedside table, then cut two relatively long strands of rope from the coil. "Now lay back," he commanded calmly.

_WHAT?_ "Eh, I, ah…" was all Tifa could say.

Sephiroth may not have been an innocent man, but the word "rape" and its meaning had never really been explained to him. Therefore, he didn't know what the woman was panicking about.

"Just lay back and give me your wrist. I need the right one, first," he demanded again, giving Tifa a withering glare.

She closed her eyes, feeling sick, and did as she was told, lying back until her head rested on her pillow, extending her right arm. She felt her wrist being pressed against the cold, dark wood of a bedpost, then felt rope harshly rub against her skin as Sephiroth secured her wrist to her bedpost with a very, very tight knot. It repeated with her left wrist.

Once Sephiroth was done tying Tifa down, he made his way towards the door and turned around to look at her. "…I do not want you attempting to escape at night. I do not want you looking for your weapon, either. I like knowing exactly where you are at all times. Goodnight."

Then he turned out the light and shut the door behind him as he left, leaving Tifa all alone.

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Yumesuta: Sorry if this chapter was sort of awkward; I wrote it when I was half-awake. I don't really know how to describe someone being tied down very well either. Eventually I'll go through and make improvements after I get the third chapter up. Anyway, please review! 


	3. Assertion

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any part of it. I'm just writing this for my own twisted amusement. I'm not trying to make any profit off of it or anything.

Note: I'm going to try to be detailed in this chapter, so if you spot any details that are really cheesy or any place I can add more details without making it seem awkward feel free to tell me.

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Chapter 3: Assertion

Tifa awoke the next morning with an aching head and sore wrists. She was still exhausted when she woke up to the sound of ropes roughly brushing against each other. Eyes still not adjusted to the darkness of the early-morning lack of sunlight, she thought she was still dreaming as her right wrist fell clumsily from her bedpost to her mattress. With that she woke up a little more and remembered what had happened.

"…What time is it?" the woman asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes as best she could with one hand before her left hand fell free.

"It is about six in the morning," Sephiroth replied coldly, yanking Tifa out of her bed by the back of her shirt forcefully. "…Before you complain about it being too early, know that I feel I am being merciful on you for not waking you up at four."

_I usually wake up at five anyway… _Tifa thought, rubbing her sore neck. The top of her head had been pulled against the headboard painfully since her arms were sprawled out at an awkwardly high position.

"You may bathe and change into some clean clothes if you wish. Then you will make breakfast—enough for both of us," the ex-general explained, turning the light on. Tifa's eyes hadn't even had time to adjust to the darkness; the sudden change from pitch black to bright light was painful.

"Fine," she grumbled, pulling open her dark wood closet door to grab her outfit for the day—a plain black T-shirt and jeans—and her undergarments before remembering…She had her weapon in this closet. Staring at the messy pile of unsorted supplies, Materia, cold clothes she never wore any more and a couple of books, she wondered if Sephiroth would notice if she just subtly bent over to grab something…

"What are you staring at?" a low voice asked coldly from behind her.

"Ah…" _Come on, Tifa, just make up a lie, _she thought to herself. _It's not like he'd be able to tell… _"I was just wondering when I should s-sort through the mess in the bottom of my closet." _Whew! That came out better than I expected it to…_

"…You're lying to me. The 'Ah…' gives it all away. I do not appreciate being lied too, Miss Lockheart…You're hiding something in there, aren't you?" Sephiroth whispered from behind the woman, so close that it felt like his warm breath scorched Tifa's ears. "What are you hiding?"

Tifa didn't answer. Instead she squirted out from between her closet and Sephiroth, grabbed a plain black plastic comb and a couple other items, and then ran into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

Sephiroth leaned against the bathroom door, barricading it so that Tifa couldn't get out. Of course, it wasn't that he wanted to trap her in the bathroom, it was just that he wanted to be able to hear what she was doing. For example, if there was a window in the bathroom and she made a pathetic attempt to escape, Sephiroth would know.

He sighed, descending into thought…why did he even force himself into this predicament, anyway? Surely if he had left his hood up and not taken Tifa hostage in her own home, he wouldn't be stuck making sure she didn't do anything that would risk the world knowing he existed. Then again, without her to provide for him, he might not be able to survive…he was a lot weaker than he let on. He could still handle the Masamune fairly well, enough to be intimidating, and could probably win in most fights, but his injured leg slowed him down. True, the injury was a small one but it was still distracting and hurt his agility.

Besides…If Strife came back to find Tifa taken hostage, he might worry about her. He might want to fight the person who took her hostage. It would be Sephiroth's chance to finally kill that little spiky-haired freak.

The ex-general was distracted by his thoughts when he heard pounding on the door behind him and cries of, "Sephiroth! Please let me out of the bathroom!" that must have belonged to that Lockheart woman.

He stepped out of the way of the bathroom door and watched in slight amusement as Tifa came tumbling out, regaining her balance with some difficulty, hair wet and plastered to the side of her face.

"That was quick, wasn't it, Lockheart? I expected your shower to take a little bit longer than that," Sephiroth said, focusing a piercing gaze on her.

"My hairdryer," the young woman began, already intimidated, "is broken. A-and I normally don't take very long showers anyway…" She faltered, meeting his gaze and forced a confident look.

The man smirked. "I suppose your excuse is good enough. Now, if you don't mind I'll require breakfast…but of course, you _don't_ mind, do you? You're smarter than that, aren't you? Oh…and of course, you may fix yourself some breakfast as well. It wouldn't be a good thing to let you starve…"

_I'd rather starve to death than spend another second with you, you bastard! _That was what Tifa **wanted** to say…however, she decided not to risk her life over something as menial as breakfast, so instead she nodded and headed towards the kitchen, brushing wet hair out of her burgundy eyes as she went.

Sephiroth assumed the commanding, somewhat cruel facial expression he'd used so many times as a general and followed Tifa, watching her intently as she removed various ingredients from the refrigerator and pulled a couple of pans out of a cabinet. She gave her captor a wary look.

"Do you have to watch me cook?" she asked.

"Yes, I do. I have to make sure you don't poison me or anything, Miss Lockheart," he sneered, saying her name in the mocking tone of voice she'd grown to hate.

"I don't keep poison around the kitchen," Tifa said quietly, cracking some eggs open, letting the yolk fall into the frying pan and sizzle. "You don't mind eggs, do you?"

"No, I do not mind eggs. And on the note of poison, since you only specifically stated not keeping poison handy around the kitchen, be aware that I'll soon be searching your household for poison…among other things."

"What other things?" Tifa demanded after cracking the last egg onto the frying pan. She whirled around, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips, a dangerous look on her face. Suddenly, she didn't **care** that this was Sephiroth she was talking to. This was her household, her home, her own **private** home! How dare he think it was okay to search around as though he was on a treasure hunt! Did he not **think** she had some precious, sentimental objects lying around! He'd _destroy_ them!

Sephiroth seemed amused, being spoken to this way. Tifa could tell by the mocking smirk that curled onto his lips. "Protective of our belongings, aren't we? First of all, I'll be searching for your weapon and all of your Materia—yes, all of it. Second, any items you have lying around here that might be useful for you to escape, I will take and possibly destroy. Third, if I see anything that might have, ah…_sentimental _value, or _personal _value, be sure you know that I will take that as well."

Tifa didn't know what had gotten into her when she suddenly found herself lunging towards Sephiroth, clawing at his face. She came to her senses, though, when her captive grabbed her by her upper arms and slammed her against a wall.

"I believe you're forgetting who's in charge here," he snarled. "You have no freedoms any more, _Miss Lockheart. _And, as a consequence of your foolish attack, the first thing I find of yours that may have any personal value whatsoever, be sure you know that I will destroy it right in front of you. When you fall to your knees crying, _Miss Lockheart, _do you know what I will do? I will _laugh. _Because, _Miss Lockheart, _while harming someone physically has its merits, I also do enjoy harming someone emotionally."

By that point, Tifa re-remembered the danger she was in and was trembling in the ex-general's grasp. "I…I'll just go…check on those eggs now…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Sephiroth snapped, throwing her onto the ground. She landed with a loud _thud_ and cried out in pain, struggling to stand back up. He knew he hadn't broken any bones by throwing her down like that, which was disappointing to him, but he took comfort in knowing that he at least bruised her.

Oh, she was going to pay hell.

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Yumesuta: Well that's that chapter! Please review, it took me ages to write (as you all know)… 


	4. Failed Escape

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

Note: …Eh. Nothing much to say about this chapter, except that it may or may not contain little hints of attraction between a certain two characters.

* * *

Chapter 4: Failed Escape

Breakfast had passed without too much awkwardness between the two, though there was a large amount of tension. Finally, Sephiroth had satisfied his hunger through many servings of eggs and stood up.

"I'm going to go take a shower…" he said, glancing down at Tifa as she took his cleaned plate and stacked it on top of hers. He'd already bruised her enough—and even so, he'd eaten enough to make him feel slightly groggy, and he didn't quite want to beat her up again. "I trust you know the rules?"

Tifa nodded, averting Sephiroth's gaze as she gathered the silverware used for eating breakfast and set it on top of the dirty plates. "Yes. I do. Do you need anything before you get into the shower?"

"No."

"If you need clean clothes or whatnot there's some in the guest bedroom…or your bedroom…whichever you want to call it…" Tifa mumbled quietly. Her pride and confidence had been hurt more than her flesh when Sephiroth slammed her against the wall and threw her to the ground.

If there was one thing Tifa Lockheart hated, it was being beaten into submission…and yet, that was exactly what had happened.

"Good to know." This time, Sephiroth didn't use a mocking tone of voice; however, he didn't sound very interested. "By the way, I'll be washing my own clothing, Miss Lockheart."

"…Okay," Tifa mumbled, sliding the dirty dishes into a metallic silver dishwasher before turning a couple of knobs on the machine, then turning to face her captor. _He's giving me a break? There has to be a catch… _she thought, sighing.

The silver-haired man eyed his unwilling caretaker for a moment. Bruises from this morning's beating were already visible on her flesh, and he knew they would probably get worse as the day progressed. When a strange feeling rose in his stomach—was it regret?—he ignored it, nodded to Tifa and headed back to the bathroom.

He gently closed and locked the bathroom door, then carelessly pulled off his coat, letting the Masamune clunk to the white tiled floor with it, then sighed.

That was definitely regret he'd felt a few moments ago.

_Why? _Sephiroth thought. He didn't care much for the woman. True, he found her attractive—but then, why wouldn't he? Nine out of every ten men found her attractive, and as much as Sephiroth hated to admit it, ever since he'd revived himself, he was just like an ordinary man. Stronger, yes—much stronger…but his previously superior mind and emotionless personality had, for the most part, gone down the drain.

…But, though he might find Tifa attractive…he didn't care for her.

_Regret…ha. I suppose I have to work harder to regain my previous self then I thought. Regret…perhaps I am weaker than I thought. _He wasn't even sure he understood what he was thinking. Tired of thinking, he turned on the water, adjusted it until he was pleased with the temperature, and resumed undressing.

* * *

Tifa finished drying the dishes as the dishwasher finished much quicker than she'd expected it to. She sighed, then smiled slightly as she heard the water being turned on in the shower.

_The water's pretty loud to someone in the shower, _she thought. _I wonder if he'd hear me if I tried to get out of here…_

Heart pounding with anxiety, she finished putting the breakfast dishes away and glanced towards her front door…it was so close…she didn't need any keys to unlock it…by the time Sephiroth got out of the shower, she could be out of town. Sephiroth would have no way of tracking her…well, none she knew of, anyway.

_I'm not going to settle for living like this, _Tifa thought, her burgundy eyes lighting up slightly with determination. _I have to at least try to get out, don't I? I have to at least TRY to prove I'm not completely weak._

So, it was settled: She was going to try to escape.

She only needed a plan…

_Once I get out… _she mentally started. _Where will I go? Hmm…I don't have any supplies with me and I'm not going to go back and get any. _She unlocked the first lock on the door. _Well, the monsters in this area are weak, anyway. Besides, there aren't too many around, any more. _After fumbling a little with the chain lock, she finally got that unlocked. _I suppose if I hurried, I could make it to the Chocobo Farm by nightfall…spend the night there…borrow a chocobo…where will I get the money, though?_

The door was completely unlocked.

_Hmm…I'm sure if I explain what's going on, they'll at LEAST give me a discount. At least…I hope so…_ Tifa put a slightly shaking hand on the doorknob. _Once I rent a chocobo, I'll go across the marshes, through the Mythril Mine, then go to Junon, ride a boat to Costa del Sol, rent another chocobo, and go to Nibelheim. Vincent might be there. Vincent might be able to help me. Cloud might be there, too…_

She nodded. That was her plan, or at least, her tentative plan. All she knew at the moment: She needed to get out of this place.

And so, she opened the door and stepped out into Sector Seven.

* * *

Sephiroth finished drying off and slid into his clothes. It had been a relatively quick shower, but he wasn't all that dirty. Seeing Tifa's comb on the bathroom counter, he yanked it through his own hair. After all, combs were combs. In this case, Tifa didn't have a choice but to share.

Sephiroth didn't quite like hairdryers…he decided to let his hair air-dry.

Stepping out into the upstairs hallway, he stretched his arms slightly and walked down into the main bar room.

He was quite surprised when he didn't see Tifa…

Immediately, Sephiroth knew. He knew that Tifa had escaped.

_How could I have been so…I should have seen this coming! She must have put something in those eggs…no, I watched her cook, and she didn't put any sort of drug in them. Oh, HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID? Oh that little—regret? HA! NOT ANY MORE! _Now panicking, Sephiroth made sure that the Masamune was securely in its sheath before bolting out the door.

* * *

Freedom…it felt so nice…

Tifa, wishing she had a little leisure time to walk around and talk to people, walked as quickly as she could towards the city's entrance. The slums looked a lot cleaner now, she noticed—or maybe she just imagined everything a little more cynically since Sephiroth took over her bar.

That didn't matter now. She was free—almost.

Reaching the little playground, Tifa couldn't help but pause and look at the beaten-up equipment. As beaten up as it was, she was surprised—it was still there…

_Now, if there were a couple of kids here, this scene would be complete, _she thought, frowning slightly at the absence of people.

She remembered that she wasn't on a leisure trip when there was a loud sound from behind her.

She turned around…

And, standing there, breathing heavily from anger, was none other than Sephiroth.

Tifa's eyes went slightly wide at the sight of the man. Somehow, the way he looked now, he was even scarier than when he'd been standing amid the flames, watching her hometown burn down before turning to go fetch his "mother".

"Lockheart…" Sephiroth growled, the Masamune trembling slightly in his hands.

"…Ho-How many people saw you on the way here?" Tifa asked tentatively…perhaps that would have something to do with how bad her punishment was.

"Plenty," the man snarled. "And if the Shinra people find out, do you know who's fault it will be? YOURS."

"…But, you could easily kill the Shinra people couldn't you? So don't worry about it…"

"I could easily kill them! Yes I could! Do you know who else I could easily kill, Lockheart?" the man asked, lifting the Masamune slightly to point it at her. "I could easily dispose of you right now, without blinking, without a God damned second thought."

Tifa stood rooted to the spot. "So you're going to k-kill me…" she mumbled.

"No. I am not. But I will not make you a happy woman once we get back to your home. And for every person that may come looking for me, Lockheart, YOU will be the one to suffer. Now come with me." He stood there expectantly.

Tifa swallowed. Not having much of a choice, she followed Sephiroth.

* * *

Yumesuta: Well, there's that chapter after like, forever of waiting. Sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and please review! Also feel free to point out any errors I may have missed while proofreading. By doing that…you'd have to REVIEW! It's easy! Just click that little button down there! 


	5. Injuries

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any part of it.

Note: All right…once again, sorry for the longish wait. I'm on break now for a week, so maybe I'll be able to update more often since I have more time.

* * *

Chapter 5: Injuries

Sephiroth's footsteps as he walked up Tifa's wooden porch to her front door were the loudest sound the dark-haired woman could hear. Her heart hammered in her chest twice as fast as her captor's footsteps, and somehow seemed to form an eerie rhythm that only she could hear. Both of them were very much aware of the crowd of people that had gathered around the Seventh Heaven, their wondering eyes burning into the pair's retreating backs.

Tifa's blood was already running cold as her imagination went wild, forming several insane ideas of how Sephiroth might punish her once they got inside. She knew he would be angrier if one of the people watching them said anything—this is why her blood froze when some man muttered to whomever was standing next to him, "That really is Sephiroth, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said the person next to him, who turned out to be a woman. "What's he doin' with Tifa, though?"

"Maybe they're in love!"

"Should someone call th' Shinra?"

"Ew, why?"

Sephiroth's hand was already on the doorknob at that point. Tifa could actually see how much he hated the Shinra—the metal her doorknob was made out of was solid brass, yet Sephiroth's fingers were denting it as though he were squeezing a soft rubber ball.

He turned his head over his shoulder and glared at Tifa. _Get inside. Now. _He didn't even have to say this out loud; Tifa was no mind reader, but she could somehow interpret his glare into that message. She was already in trouble, so she dared not disobey him, and rushed ahead of him to the inside of the bar once Sephiroth opened the door. She was barely inside when the door slammed shut behind her.

Outside, Sephiroth turned fully around to face the group of people. There weren't too many—fifteen, at the most, maybe. As he unsheathed the Masamune, he was glad Tifa was inside. That way, he wouldn't accidentally hurt her when he thought.

_After all,_ he thought, _she could very well be useful…_

Sephiroth swept the Masamune into a battle position, so that it made a very impressive _whoosh_ sound as the thin blade sliced through air. "My, how very observant you rats are. Yes, I am Sephiroth. Allow me to give you a demonstration of my power. Allow the show…it will be the last you'll ever see in this life…"

He took a step forward, carefully counting the people in the crowd. There were fifteen exactly—therefore, he intended to commit fifteen murders today. They were all gawking at him. _Those fools, looking at me like I'm some sort of freak show, _he thought. He raised the Masamune slightly, ready to kill them all. Oh, how he hated that look—

_Hojo and some other, younger scientists looked down at the six-year-old Sephiroth, who was lying helplessly on some metal table, needles stuck in his arms, hooked to some machine. Gallons of some strange, foreign, and painful substances were being pumped constantly into his bloodstream. The group of scientists looked awestruck, even cruelly amused, at the young boy—Hojo, most of all._

"_Interesting, Professor," one of the younger scientists said, looking up at his senior. "When are you going to give a demonstration of him?"_

"_Very soon. I suppose I should feed the boy first, though," Hojo said, waving a hand to suggest that the younger scientists should leave now. They did, but not after gazing at the young Sephiroth as though he were some fascinating animal in a zoo._

—How he absolutely _hated_ it.

Sephiroth brought the Masamune down several times blindly, hitting something each time. He was deaf to their screams, numb to the feel of their fists foolishly pounding on his being.

If he were the way he was before he had revived himself, he wouldn't have been so upset—he would have slashed down the slum people and walked away as though nothing happened. But now, he was weaker, and couldn't hold back his emotions so well.

He still fought with the powerful sort of grace he's always had, and within a minute, the battle was over.

Sephiroth's eyes swept over the scene quickly, counting the corpses…fourteen.

_Only fourteen…one escaped, _he thought, sheathing the Masamune. _I won't bother going after the surviving slum rat. They are all worthless, anyway…_ He sighed and turned around, one foot on the first step of Seventh Heaven's wooden front porch, staring up at the front door. _Well…perhaps not all of them? Wait a minute, what am I thinking? Of course all of them are useless…every last one of them._ He ascended up the small set of wooden stairs, approaching the front door, and sighed. _So why am I trying to tell myself differently?_

Before Sephiroth could even put his hand on the dented doorknob, multiple gunshots that sounded like they were from a machine gun broke the eerie silence…and hit him in the back.

He turned around quickly, then ground his teeth together. _SOLDIER…all right, can I have a break sometime soon?_ Sephiroth thought.

"Word travels fast, I see," he said, glaring down at the few members of Shinra's elite fighting force as he drew the Masamune again. Only a couple of the SOLDIERs ceased fire. "Enjoy your last moments of life, rats…"

Not wanting to fight again, he dragged the tip of the Masamune's blade along the wood of the porch, then swung it upwards in the way a golfer hitting a golf ball would swing a club. A blaze of magic fire shot out, turning the members of SOLDIER to ash before they had time to think.

Sheathing the Masamune for the last time that day, Sephiroth sighed, slightly aggravated with himself. For a moment, he felt some remorse—

_(They have families, don't they?)_

—But the remorse quickly vanished as he turned around and finally pushed the door open. He'd seen the look on those SOLDIER's faces…it was that same look he despised.

Tifa had been cooking lunch for herself, completely oblivious to the battle going on outside. The silver-haired man limped over to the counter, grinding his teeth. The bullets didn't bother him as much as they would bother a normal human being—after all, he was still alive, after being shot well over ten times. Even so, he was beginning to feel slightly faint.

His captive glanced over at him, and Sephiroth stared at her, forcing her to make eye contact.

He knew Tifa was the sort of people-loving person that would feel sympathy for anyone…even him. And he could see it in her eyes.

After being given that look he hated for the past five minutes, her sympathy was strangely welcomed. There was fear in her eyes; of course there was…but a strange sense of caring, too. And Sephiroth welcomed that…and that bugged him.

"Sephiroth…" Tifa started.

"I'm fine," he snapped irritably, standing up so quickly that had he been in a chair, the chair would have been knocked over, but he had seated himself in a stool. He put a hand to his forehead, grimacing slightly. "I think I'm going to go rest now. Come."

Tifa hesitated, unsure why he wanted her to follow, but did so anyway. She was already in a lot of trouble—she didn't want to add on to that. As she followed behind him, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of all of Sephiroth's gun-induced wounds…but he said nothing, and neither would she.

_I think he might have weakened…maybe I can strike back now, _she thought as they entered his bedroom, and was ready to strike when Sephiroth simply climbed onto his bed and stared at her tiredly.

"…I do not have the energy to tie you down to night. I trust you will not run away again? After all…SOLDIER came after me, which means, your punishment tomorrow will be worse than it would have been for just running away." He spoke from a strained voice that strongly suggested the pain he was in.

"I know," Tifa mumbled under her breath, tensing slightly. As soon as he looked the other way…

Sephiroth sat up. "One last thing…"

Tifa waited for him to say something…but he only collapsed.

"Sephiroth?" Tifa said, slightly surprised. Cautiously, she walked up to the side of the bed and prodded his shoulder. He did nothing. She gawked, amazed that the Great Sephiroth had just…_fainted._

_I guess he's in a lot of pain though…serves him right, the damn bastard, _she thought, and was all ready to leave now and let him die, but…somehow, it just didn't feel right. After all, Sephiroth was human, and she wasn't so sure she had it in her to abandon a potentially dying person any more.

_Holy, I'm weak, _Tifa thought, sighing. _But he's weak, too, and getting weaker, it looks like. But after what he did…oh, I should just leave him to die! I should just leave him! Why can't I just leave him!_

She sighed again, trying to decide what the best way to bandage him would be.

* * *

Yumesuta: Okay, not the best chapter, and it was mostly about Sephiroth this time. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway! Review please, or you'll have to wait even longer for the next chapter! 


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